


Improper Manners

by avantegarda



Series: It's the New World, Darling-A 19th-20th Century AU [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, dunno, how does one do that, victorian au, wow look i wrote something sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5126000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avantegarda/pseuds/avantegarda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1892, and a newly engaged Turgon is trying to be a proper Victorian gentleman. His charming fiance has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Improper Manners

_Spring, 1892_

_London_

Elenwe giggled and pulled Turgon closer to her as they danced, enjoying the way he shivered. They were at Feanor Gates’  ball to celebrate the beginning of the London Season, and they would be married in two months…which to both of them seemed like an unfairly long time.

“Come on,  _cherie_ ,” Elenwe whispered. “After this dance, let’s go outside. It’s such a pretty night.”

Turgon groaned inwardly. His fiancee was constantly trying to get him alone as the wedding drew closer, and for some reason–he blamed her French charm–he was absolutely unable to say no to her. They’d managed to confine themselves to kissing, but he wasn’t sure how much longer that would last. Still, he allowed her to drag him out into the garden, hoping they’d be able to resist having more than a kiss and cuddle.

It was indeed a beautiful night, but Turgon barely noticed as Elenwe stood on her tiptoes and pulled his face down for a kiss. He sighed and pulled her close, before glancing down and stepping back in shock.

“Elenwe, darling, I think you need to pull up your neckline a bit,” he whispered. “I can see, ah…I can see your nipples.”

Elenwe smirked. “What,  _these_?” She plunged her hands into her bodice and pulled out her wonderfully full, flushed breasts. The stiff fabric of her corset pushed them up impossibly high, and her large, rosy nipples were stiff with arousal. Turgon groaned with longing, and reached out his hand to touch her, before pulling back.

“What’s wrong,  _cherie_?” Elenwe pouted. “Don’t you want me?”

“Elenwe, I want you more than anything, but…our wedding isn’t for another two months. We can’t…I can’t do anything to dishonor you.”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Elenwe kissed him on the cheek. “Sweetheart, don’t worry. There are still ways we can touch each other that will keep me a virgin til our wedding night.”

Turgon swallowed, unable to keep his eyes from her luscious, heavy breasts. “Is…is that what French mothers teach their daughters?”

She laughed breathily, and settled onto the nearest bench, lifting her skirts to reveal her plump, shapely legs and the shining wetness between them. “Kiss me,  _cherie_.”

With a groan, Turgon fell to his knees in surrender and buried his face between her thighs, licking and caressing her until she screamed his name into the night air.

 

When they returned to the ballroom over half an hour later, their clothes decorously rearranged, no one seemed to notice anything was amiss.

(Turgon hoped he was imagining the knowing smirk on his sister’s face) 


End file.
